


Territorial

by Greenie (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Community: pornish_pixies, Dom/sub, F/F, Fisting, Genderswap, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-17
Updated: 2004-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Greenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Queen Bee of a non-magical Hogwarts, Black, smokes a cigarette behind the greenhouses with the dingy outcast, Snape. | "Everyone knows this is her territory, even the stupid first year Hufflepuffs.  The branches of the willow hanging around them, the gloom of the alcoves behind Greenhouse Three - this is hers, all of it, and she rules it like a Queen.  Almost makes up for everything she lost when she blew off her father and family."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Territorial

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pornish_Pixies genderfuck challenge. Many thanks to Anna for the beta.

"Sod off, Snivellus," Black says, fishing a lighter from the pocket of her leather jacket. Thirteen million other places to be in the entire fucking school, and the stupid bitch had to pick this one. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave my friends and me alone?"

"I didn't know you'd be here," mutters Snape in that slimy, whisper-soft voice of hers. A greasy curtain of hair hides her expression, but Black is an expert at reading crossed arms and hunched shoulders.

She sneers, breathing in and watching the tip of the cigarette glow in the dimness. Everyone knows this is her territory, even the stupid first year Hufflepuffs. The branches of the willow hanging around them, the gloom of the alcoves behind Greenhouse Three — this is hers, all of it, and she rules it like a Queen. Almost makes up for everything she lost when she blew off her father and family.

Snape's pulling out a crinkled fag of her own, and she brings it to her mouth with shaking hands. "Could I—"

"What?"

"Borrow a lighter."

Black, generous even to her dying breath, tosses the Zippo over. "Who the fuck said you could smoke here?"

"Who the fuck says I need permission?" Snape is barely audible, but Black feels red-lacquer nails cutting into her palm.

"I say," she says. "Take your cheap cigarettes elsewhere, Snivelly."

"Fuck you." She tosses the lighter back, and Black catches it like it's a lacrosse ball. "You can't snitch without getting yourself in trouble."

It should be true, but sadly isn't. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black have always kept power close to their hearts. "My best friend's Head Girl, I can do whatever the fuck I want."

Snape doesn't reply, and isn't that just typical? She seems to allot herself a maximum word limit each day, and most of it is spent on Professors and fellow housemates. When she's following around Black and company — which is all the sodding time, it seems these days — she's silent as the fucking grave, all narrowed eyes and too-big clothes.

They smoke in peace for a moment, Black satisfied that Snivellus is only here because she allows it. Then: "Why don't you like me?"

There's enough sincerity in the question to make Black's head snap up. She takes a step forward, and Snivellus can do nothing but shrink back against the ivy-covered wall, the small wooden bench pressing into the backs of her calves. "Why should I like you? You're ugly as fuck, and a Slytherin to boot."

Snape seems to get even smaller, her usually gangly frame compacting itself under Black's glare. "At least I'm not an arrogant bitch like you."

"And what's that supposed to mean, huh?" She's practically pressed against Snape now, hands on the wall beside her, face sickeningly close to that protuberant nose. "God, you're gutless. It's disgusting."

Then Snape's pushing forward, pressing herself against Black's full lips. Not as gutless as she'd thought, then — but she grips the greying blouse and shoves her back, hard enough that her head knocks against the bricks.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Don't make like you've never kissed a girl before, Black," smirks Snape, and is promptly slapped.

"No-one, and fucking _no-one_, touches me without my permission."

A red mark slowly begins to form on Snivellus's face, but she doesn't seem to mind. "Permission to kiss you, my Lady?" she asks, managing to mock-curtsey even in this small space.

"As though I'd ever lower-"

"What, are you afraid?"

It's the first time Black has seen Snape smile, and the sight sends shivers down her spine. She looks positively wicked, glancing up through her eyelashes; wicked and disturbingly alluring.

"I'm not afraid of anything," lies Black, and leans in to kiss her again. At first she is merely rubbing her lips against Snape's chapped ones, but then she pushes her tongue forward and Snape's hot, wet mouth opens for her. It tastes like acid and ashtrays and something barely detectable but disgusting; she pulls away, grimacing.

"Eugh. Don't you ever brush your fucking teeth?"

"Fuck you," says Snape, and her mouth drifts across to bite Black's ear. One hand is slowly making its way past the softened leather and crisp white blouse to the breasts beneath; crawling, spider-like, into the gaps between buttons, which have always been too big on the Hogwarts standard school uniforms.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She pushes Snape down onto the bench, hands going to the Slytherin tie. "Writhing under your mouth, the big bad bitch of Hogwarts at the mercy of poor little Snivellus Snape."

"Mmm," Snape mumbles, and twists a nipple. Her fingers have managed to find their way into Black's bra, sliding against the smooth flesh, which feels slightly damp in the confines of clothing.

Black gives up on the tie and rips her way through the buttons, popping them through the holes in rapid succession. "I'd never fuckin' let you," she says. "You little whore."

Snape doesn't wear anything underneath and her shoulders hunch even more as she tries to cover her flat chest, her hand drawing back from Black's blouse. "Please don't look."

"I'll look all the fuck I want," says Black, shoving her arms apart so they're pinned against the wall, and kissing her again. Her mouth slides over the greasy skin — it's a wonder the stupid twit doesn't have chronic acne, since she's obviously never done a day of skincare in her miserable life.

When she takes one of Snape's small, pink nipples in her mouth, the other girl moans and tries to push her arms free. But she would swot around in the library as Black went out and won trophies for the school v and as such, is no match for strength. Black smirks to herself, rolling her tongue over the pink tip and tasting the sweet bumps on the hardening areola.

Now this is her territory, too, and she explores it masterfully.

She licks her way across to the other nipple, slightly perturbed by the lack of a familiar valley. Her hand, meanwhile, is dipping under Snape's frumpy skirt and tracing butterfly-patterns up her thigh through the light scattering of hairs. Snape is making these awful puling little noises, like a baby or something, and Black rests her chin on a breast. "You're such a fucking dyke," she says.

Her fingers graze the cotton of the knickers, and they're gooey and sticky, Snape already wet. She's almost surprised not to feel a hard cock pressing heatedly into her hand — but she gets over it, crooking one finger around the underpants and touching the warm, wet, flesh inside, running over the inner ridges of Snape's cunt. Snape's breath catches and she keens.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?" chuckles Black, her other hand letting Snape's arms collapse again, and going to the zipper of her own short skirt. She's kneeling now, knees pressing into the dirt and grass and cigarette butts, too focussed on the soft flesh beneath her to care. She rolls Snape's skirt up so it's against her stomach, and looks at her spread out like a rag doll on the bench.

Snape's skin is a sickly yellow colour, but her knuckles are white where she's gripping the bench. Her eyes have fluttered half-closed, but there's still that spark of wickedness peering out, watching as Black slips another finger in to explore her cunt. Her limp, greasy hair is all over her face, and her chest is heaving. Out of fucking control and Black loves it.

"Come on, bitch, let's see what you've got." She pulls down Snape's greying underwear, grinning at the dark curls and glimmer of pink. She parts Snape's folds almost tenderly, leaning in to breathe in the deep, earthy musk of her sex, and blows gently. The cool air tickles Snape, who wriggles her hips, clenching her fists harder.

"Fuck, Black, please touch me," she says hoarsely. Black does, thumbs sliding over tender skin, touching everywhere but the reddening clit. Finally she reaches it, petting teasingly at first but then with harder, more demanding strokes of her fingers. She bends down to lap at the gathering moisture, and ends up sucking the inner folds of Snape's cunt, her free hand once again delving inside her own panties.

There are juices on her chin, slimier than a boy's cum, and she giggles to herself as she continues to rub Snape to ecstasy. Snape comes quickly, shuddering under her fingers and almost completely silent except for a few escaped rumblings from the back of her throat. She's arched and strained and beautiful, and Black wastes no time in sliding a finger into her.

"Do you want me to take you?" she asks Snape, even as she's still panting her release. "Beg me to fuck you with my hand, go on."

"Yes, please," Snape whispers. "Please, Black, I'm begging you, I want you in me, please fuck me."

"Do you deserve it?"

"No, god, but please, I don't deserve it, please fuck me, I want you."

More musical than the cries of earlier, Snape's beseeching tone sends shivers down Black's spine and straight to her clit. She pushes another slicked finger in, allowing herself to mimic the actions in her own cunt. She bends her head to lick again at the over-sensitized bud.

Snape's reaction is to start up a litany of curses — "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck."

A third finger is pushed into her cunt, and the fingers go deeply, scissoring and stretching her insides, rubbing against the sensitive upraised spot. "Whatever you say, my dearest," says Black. Her composure is slipping however, breathing hard as her nails scrape along hot flesh and make Snape squeal.

"If I chip a fucking nail because of this, you're paying for the manicure." She has stretched the flesh enough to push her fourth finger in, and slowly, aided by spit and juices and Snape's cries of pleasure or agony, begins to push her compacted hand further in. Her thumb circles gently against Snape's clit, and then pulls back with the hand. Black thrusts forward again.

This time, Snape yelps, and Black hopes to fuck that no-one around here will hear them. It shouldn't matter: this is her place, and her girl, and she can do what she likes with both of them. Yet no-one would ever want to be caught dead with Snivelly — not like this, anyway, with her half-naked and shrieking under one's touch. She begins to thrust, a little faster, a little harder than before, revelling in the sight of the hand slowly disappearing into the other girl. Finally, she allows the thumb to slip inside, and she gingerly clenches her fist within.

When she pulls it out, her fingers are coated in cum and blood. Snape's cries are no longer distinguishable, just a possible-name mutter and howl of agony. Black makes soothing noises and stills her movements, but Snape bucks her hips.

"More," is all that's distinguishable from the nonsense, and Black plunges in again, feeling the tight flesh ripple around her as she delves deeply, flexing each of her fingers one at a time and watching the expressions shift on Snape's face. She bends to kiss the girl's stomach, and resume her own masturbation, ministrations having been forgotten in the intricacies of this precision work.

Snape is using the wall to fuck herself on Blacks hand, pushing so hard that an expensive silver bracelet is rubbing against her clit. Her features are twisted with frustration as she gasps, and gasps, and gasps. Black, too, is beginning to move on her own fingers, feeling her cunt moisten around her palm. She is over Snape, powerful, dominating — with a loud sigh, she comes hard, breasts bouncing with her movement.

Around her hand, Snape's cunt contracts as she watches Black's orgasm. She is right on the edge, so full of pain and need. One of her hands goes down to touch herself, but Black has retained enough sensibility to swat it away with sticky fingers.

"Do you want to come, Snivelly?" she asks. "Look at you, you're so ugly, I don't know why I should let you."

"Fucking bitch." Snape's voice catches on the second word as she feels fingers twist and pinch within her. "Oh fuck, touch me, please. Fuck me. Please, Black."

As requested, Black begins to pound relentlessly into her, and her free hand comes up to play across the untouched skin of Snape's exposed arse, the crease of flesh in between groin and thigh, the soft skin around her navel. Snape is still gasping, pleading, and as if in an afterthought, Black brings her finger down to rub once again at Snape's clitoris. "Oh, you mean _here_."

"Yes," says Snape, and repeats herself a few times for good measure, thrashing about as she begins to come — Black bets it's harder than she ever has in her entire fucking life.

Her own heartbeat once again races in sympathy with the wailing girl's, and she pulls out her hand slowly, watching Snape's cunt gape in disappointment at losing its fulfilment. Snape barely notices it, nor does she seem to feel the splinters in her thighs caused by the rough wood. Black sits back in satisfaction and watches her orgasmic oblivion.

She stands, straightening her shirt and skirt, brushing the dead leaves off her reddened knees. Snape is limp before her, breathing hard, hands shaking, and Black turns her nose up at the disarray. "You were fucking terrible," she says.

"Fuck you," manages Snape. "I think I need another cigarette."

"I think you need a fucking bath," Black says, but fishes the lighter from the pocket of her leather jacket.


End file.
